Of Smoke and Sorrow
by Ironson Aikenrod
Summary: My first fic, yay! pls r&r. This is a story about a girl in search of inner peace, her evil brother, the man she falls in love with, and a host of adventures as they travel the Realms in search of a way to save them! Rated T for some violence and romance
1. Intro, A Soul Waiting

_Of Smoke and Sorrow_

_by Gray_

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A cold wind swept around a lone figure, a girl. Snow and ice blew at her form all directions, guided by gusts of icy wind that seemed to bite at her with an almost malicious intent. She wore a long, black cloak, which she held tight around her thin frame and burried her head in its hood. A few strands of her long hair, which was colored as the snowy ground she stood upon, flew about her shrouded body. From under that shroud, eyes of crimson shone a faint glimmer as they looked over the horizon... searching. She strained her eyes, squinting in the harsh wind as she looked about the bleak landscape. A silent tear fell down her cheek as she waited on that snowy hill.

_As she waited for her love..._

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**There, i throw myself upon the mercy of the court. This is the intro to what i hope will be a _very_ long story/series. Mind you this is also my first fanfic, so if this sounds cheesy, stupid, or immature...yay for me...An dont have a fit, it is set near and in silverymoon...that will come in the next chapter.**


	2. Chapter 1, Just Another Job

Well, its that time again, and heres the next installment in my story. enjoy!

pardon me if Kesha sounds like Jar Jar Binks on weed, but its the best i could come up with for a half-retarded lizard woman.

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**Chapter 1 - Just Another Job**

Somewhere, on the edge the woods that bordered the village of Tersque, a tree branch quivered. Voices came from behind the cover of its leaves.

"Kesha! Get your damned foot off my cloak!" First a hushed but tense man spoke.

"Kesha won'ers What'sa kin'a tree climber wears'a cloak when he's a'climbing?" A feminene, unhuman sounding voice that hissed when it spoke said.

"One that _wants to stay hidden!_ Keep quiet your blasted voice down, Kesha!" the man replied as the branch shook again. "Wait, i think i see him. _Keep quiet you scaled fiend!_" About twenty meters from the tree, a gruff-looking man stumbled out of a tavern and onto the hard dirt street. He had a black eye, and was most definately drunk.

"He'a looks like'see had'a too much ale..." the Hissing female voice said loudly, making no attempt at stealth. A loud squeek sounded from the tree, and the branch shook violently. "Heya, you'sa need not'in be hittin Kesha!" This reply was not quieted either, and the drunk man in the street, as hindered his senses were, didnt miss this. He stared intently at the tree, watching it for any movement or sound. He saw and heard nothing, and so he simply chalked it up to the thirteen tankards of Imported Dwarven Ale he had downed before leaving the tavern. He then turned about, and proceeded to stumble the oppisite way down the street. "You'sa see'a that? He'sa 'iddint heer Kesha." Two things happened in this moment, and they both couldnt have been more unfortunate for the ocupants of the tree. First, the man heard the last comment of the reptilian creature, Kesha, and had turned about once more; Second, The two hiding in the tree _fell out_ of the tree. The male voice had come from a moon elf that was most definately in his prime, the reptilian coming from a short, female kobold. The elf wore a light tan tunic and slightly darker trousers under his long dark green cloak ehe kobold wearing a poorly maintained set of leather armor, and a small wooden buckler strapped to her left arm. The elf quickly lifted his counterpart to her feet, then stood himself. The drunkard quickly reached inside the long coat he was wearing, and pulled out a large, single bladed axe and readied himself for combat. The elf sighed as he saw this.

"You've done it this time, Kesha... you know we have to take him alive to get paid..." He said.

"Ugh, Kerwyn..." The Kobold said as she wiped teh dust from her tunic, trousers, and leather armguard."What'sa did Kesha be'a doin wrong?"

The elf, Kerwyn, shook his head in disbelief, then turned it to the now battle-ready and extremely drunk man standing a little over thirty feet from them. The one that was now creeping towards the two slowly.

"Kesha, weapons out." He told his small companion as he undid the leather cord that bound his own weapon, a Bastard sword with a serated edge on one blade, and lifted it to a ready position. Kesha unfastened her own weapon, a small dagger, and lifting it as well, but not before dipping the blade in a small bottle quickly.

"Kesha be'a ready, Kerwyn elf."

The elf looked to his companion, grinning,

"Shall we?" At this, Kerwyn lept forward, charging his target, sword raised over his shoulder. Kesha was close to follow, running along at three steps for every one Kerwyn made. The drunkard that they had been following took a moment to think about this, stupidly, before deciding it was probably a good idea to follow suit. So, with a loud cry of rage, the man charged forward, axe raised.

In only a moment, the distance between the two and the one closed to naught, and the drunkard met his foe with a mighty cleave. the dirt Kerwyn had been standing on a split second before was torn into a rift as the axe hit it. The elf leapt to the man's left, and deftly sliced the tendons in his right forearm as he went. Before Kerwyn touched the ground, the man had released his weapon, clenching his arm, howling in pain. But he was soon silenced, and keeled over, unconsious a few seconds later.

Once again grinning, Kerwyn wiped away the small bit of blood on his sword. Kesha was standing behind the man, dagger in hand, grinning as well.

"Kesha did'a good, huh ya?" She piped, obviously overjoyed by their performance and lack of any injury. Kerwyn laughed.

"Yes, Kesha, you did fine... sure saved my sorry arse the trouble of disabling him further. I somehow doubt a completely immobile captive would have been fun to take to the authoraties."

"Kesha think'sa you'sa right, me no wanna drag'im all'da way'a to Silverymoon."

"Good point. Why dont you tie him up, I dont think that sleeping poison you have lasts very long... at least it didnt on me..." Kerwyn then rubbed an oddly colored sore on the back of his neck. Kesha became extremely interested with the tightness of the knot she to used to secure their prisoner...


	3. Chapter 2, The Hunt

Its that time again, and heres the next installment of my story...enjoy!

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CRASH! A boulder the size of a small barn slammed into the side of the mountain Bador Bloodaxe stood upon. He leapt further up the steep incline, dodging the large rock mass, and towards the foe he was to face. A little over a hundred yards up the mountainside, was a Hill Giant of enormous size, flinging chunks of stone at the dwarven warrior that quickly advanced upon him. Bador dodged another boulder, then jumped into a small rift in the mountain for cover. More rocks flew over his head as he took a small throwing axe from his belt. He gave a great leap out of his hiding place, and threw the axe straight at the giant. A moment later, the huge creature cried out in agony, looking down at the small bladed weapon stuck in its knee. It pulled the thing from its joint, then threw it aside, shattering it. The giant gave a terrible roar, one that would curdle the blood of any lesser warrior than Bador Bloodaxe, then charged diown the hill at the dwarf, ignoring its injury. With a grimace, Bador quickly pulled a large stone a little smaller than his own head from his pack. The stone looked normal enough, but after Bador whispered something to it, the thing seemed to come alive, making uniteligible noises and attempting to fly from the dwarf's grasp.

"Wait for it..." Bador commanded the stone while watching the fast approching giant, and the stone quieted slightly. The massive creature running at Bador made the entire face of the mountain shake as it went, pounding the stone with its weight. Dust and small stones flew up at its feet, showering Bador as it got closer. When the Hill Giant came within twenty feet of it's target, it stopped, sliding down the mountainside a little. It leaned over and picked up another large boulder, then lifted it over it's head, ready to crush the dwarven warrior. Bador siezed this moment of vunerability, heaving the rock in his hand at the giant. Instead of falling to the ground like any other normal stone would, the rock continued to fly straight at the giant, gaining speed even as it went. With a resounding _Crack_, the stone hit the giant in the head, killing it instantly. Its body slid down the steep ground it had stood on, resting not far from Bador. The dwarf raised his hand high above his head, fingers outstretched, and called for the stone. It flew back with great speed towards its master, hitting Bador's hand eagarly. Bador put it away in his pack, then took out another, larger hand axe. He moved to the dead giant, maintaining his usual stoic silence, and started to slice his way through it's thick neck. A few bloody moments later, the dwarf held the large monster's head in his hand, a proud grin forcing its way onto his face.


	4. Chapter 3, A Drink

Several men at The Starwind Alehouse were laughing at a joke just told. Tankards of imported Calimshan Ale were being downed quickly as the night went on. Those not enjoying the fireplace that warmed the pub, those outside, had to endure a horrible blizzard that had gripped Silverymoon for more than a week.

Around Midnight, the door of the tavern opened, and a burst of cold air and snow shot into the cozy common room. Several of the now asleep men, grunted, by did not awaken. A dark cloaked figure stepped into the pub and closed the door, examining the place as it went. The stranger walked briskly to the bar counter, where the barman sat on a stool, asleep. A pale, dexterous hand reached out from under the stranger's cloak and rapped the counter top twice. The barman shook awake, dazed, then stood quickly when he saw his customer. He groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then spoke.

"What can I get ye... sir?" A female voice, smooth and quiet spoke from under the hood.

"Water..."

"Oh! Of course young lass, terribly sorry. One water coming right up." At this, the barman took a glass in one hand, then dipped a ladle-full of water into the it with the other. Not a second after he put the glass on the counter, had the same pale hand taken it. The girl put the glass to her lips, leaving her hood draped over her face, and drank deeply from her cup. Once, finished, she left the glass there on the counter and walked away. The stranger went to a large cushioned chair near the fire, and sat. The barman, weary of strangers, but curious about this girl, sat back on his stool, watching her carefully.

An hour later, the girl stirred, having been still the entire time. Her hooded head turned to the barman, who was now asleep.

Then, a rustling noise came from outside the front door of the tavern. The hooded stranger seemed to turn to the sound almost before it could be heard. She stood quickly, and strode to the door, leaning against the wall next to it as she fumbled for something under her cloak. More rustlings, it sounded as though several... 'somethings', were wondering weither to enter or not. The girl ceased moving, presumably ready for whatever was behind that door.

Something sharp scraped against the wooden portal, testing it. Then, it was quiet.

BAM! The door flew off its hinges, flying all the way across the room, and into a sleeping man. The rest of the tavern patrons immediately woke, standing quickly, and found themselves staring at three, large, vicious Worgs. Dark blue fur, matted and dirty, covered the horrible creatures, and eyes that glowed with an evil light. Several of the now-awake barmen took nearby objects in hand, ready for a fight.

But before anything happened, a dark figure, the girl, stepped forward. She unflinchingly raised a pale hand from her cloak towards the Worgs, fingers outstretched. The room began to darken, the candles dimmed in their brackets. The focus of this darkness seemed to be this stranger, this person nobody knew. Just as one of the vile wolves was about to leap at this seemingly defenseless target, a loud crack, one like thunder sounded out in the room.

CRACK! A flash of light, a bolt of energy, then quiet. The candles began to regain their brightness. What the men in that room saw would haunt them for the rest of their lives. The three Worgs lay dead upon the floor, torn to ribbons. What little remained of them was scattered about the common room, a truly gruesome sight. Then, one of the men looked about, and spoke.

"Where is the one that did this? Where did the stranger go?" They all looked around. SLAM! The side door of the tavern was forced shut by the blowing wind, and a few snowflakes fluttered about the room on the gust of wind, but not before they caught a glimpse of the stranger.

A footstep was heard, the edge of her cloak was seen... that was all...


End file.
